Arthur Fuller
fuller.artful at gmail.com
Mon Sep 10 21:29:26 CDT 2012
This is old science, but perhaps it's time to trot it out again, if only because as I write this, I'm listening to a cbc-radio program called Ideas, whose current subject is probability. So allow me to trot out a problem that is a couple of decades old, and invite you to solve it without referring to Google or Scientific American (in which there occurred a very heated discussion that lasted about six months in Letters to the Editor, many of whose authors cited various credentials from prestigious universities). But in the end, math proved correct. It's the classic three-doors problem, in the following descriptions of whose doors, feel free to substitute objects of interest, the only proviso being that two should be eminently desirable and the third an unpleasant alternative. I am the host of a TV show. You are the contestant. You are presented with three doors. Lights focus on me, and I announce that our new contestant is the lovely/handsome Mr./Ms. J.D. Something, a seasoned developer from Somewhere, Kansas and specializing in several programming languages. Lights focus on you. In 30 seconds, you describe your current career, failed marriages, naughty children, and recent auto-accidents. Enough of the fluff! Time to move on to The Game. Behind these three doors lie your three prizes, my darling/handsome contestant! Behind two of these doors lies something ghastly, Behind the other is the answer to all your problems, and all your family's problems, forever! I was going to get into ghastly descriptions of what lies behind the bad two doors, and a rhapsodic description of what lies behind the third, but let's strive for simplicity. 1. Choose a door: A, B or C. 2. As host, I select one of the remaining two doors, revealing something ghastly. 3. I now invite you to switch your choice to the remaining door, or stick with your original choice. Does it make a difference whether you stay or switch, and if so why? Facts: This question originally arose in the pages of Scientific American about 40+ years ago, IIRC. It's only fair if you try to answer, and explain your answer, in about 20 lines of text and/or algebra. I knew the answer even before the SA discussions began, and proved it using three playing cards, within 5 minutes. Many of the finest statisticians in the world argued about the answer for about six months in Letters to the Editor of said publication. Provisos: Even though I have cited the source material and its ensuing lengthy discourse, if you want to play fair, please ignore the sources and deal with the problem at hand. Miscellaneous: I got to the solution rather quickly, but only because I'm an expert at backgammon, which requires the ability to do a large number of calculations in a very limited amount of time. Thus I arrived at the correct answer rather quickly. This is not to say that expertise in backgammon is required, but that expertise in probability analysis helps. Proofs are invited. (I haven't written down the solution in algebraic form lately, but given three cards, I can prove the answer within a couple of minutes.) A.